A Lesson in Kindness
by theowlandtheunicorn
Summary: After the incident in 3x07 and some of the aftermath in 3x08, Thomas is left alone, desperate and terrified for his future. Elsie Hughes takes matters into her own hands. Mr Carson learns something.
1. Tea and Sympathy

A/N: Hello everyone! This is my take on how the problem could have been solved without the Her Ladyship's soap thing. I do think I'll leave that in too, because I like it when my fics can fit into the canon, and I love the idea of Mr Bates helping, but I'm not entirely convinced that O'Brien would have told Thomas what had happened. In any case, it was strange that her confession wasn't shown on screen as it would have been a huge character moment. I suppose Thomas may or may not have guessed it, but I'm not sure about that either. So if you also found it a bit strange, maybe you will like this version. I hope so, anyway! Needless to say, I adore Mrs Hughes, and she will be the hero of the story.

* * *

He said it.

God help him he said it, and now all would come crashing down again, and what he said wasn't even the worst part. Not by far.

He was in Mrs Hughes's sitting room, seated across Mrs Hughes at the small desk lit by a faded red lamp, a cup of tea steaming in front of him. After finding him outside in the rain, she'd led him in and given him a cloth to dry off, then disappeared for a few minutes only to return with a tray.

The warmth had been an immediate comfort. He'd wiped his face and hair and tried to make himself presentable, and as he breathed in the homey scent of the room he felt a little calmer. But the illusion of peace didn't last long. Mrs Hughes returned and sat down, setting the tray upon the desk, and suddenly there were words to say, and things to relate, and soon enough he found himself spilling his deepest, darkest secret to someone he'd spent years hiding it from.

He waited for a reaction, barely daring to breathe, and cast a minuscule glance in her direction. But Mrs Hughes just kept looking at him.

"I suggest you continue, Mr Barrow," she said after a while, "as I am so far neither shocked nor disgusted."

Stunned, Thomas met her eyes properly.

For the briefest of moments, fear bubbled up inside of him. His secret was out! He would be ruined!

But then he remembered he was already ruined, and the fear died down only to be replaced by despair again.

So she already knew. He had no idea how, but there it was. Once, that would have been a terrifying prospect; in the light of current events it seemed so trivial that he just disregarded it and focused on the gruelling task of relating what had happened.

"I made a mistake," he continued. Each word seemed to weigh heavier and heavier on his tongue. "I thought… that Jimmy liked me. But he didn't. Doesn't." He paused to steady his nerves.

"Care to tell me how you found that out?" Mrs Hughes softly prompted. "Or am I to guess?"

Honestly.

She wasn't even disgusted enough to stop smiling.

Well, she would be soon enough.

Thomas shifted in his chair.

"I kissed him."

Mrs Hughes leaned back. "Oh," she just said. For a few moments she was silent. "And how did James react?"

"Not well to say the least." The image of Jimmy's lovely face contorted into an ugly, livid mask flashed in his mind.

"I'm not surprised," Mrs Hughes said. "How in the world did you even manage to do that?"

Here it comes. The worse and the worst.

"I… sneaked into his room. While he was asleep."

It took several seconds for this to register with her.

"You kissed the man for the first time while he was asleep?! A man who is not like you?"

Engulfed by shame, Thomas nodded.

"Oh, Thomas."

Somehow, the use of his first name made it even worse. He suddenly felt young and small. Disgrace burned in his stomach, and he looked away, at the floor, at the cupboard, at his tea, anywhere but at Mrs Hughes. She couldn't hide her disappointment, and Thomas didn't blame her. It truly sounded daft. Insane.

"What were you even thinking?" she asked.

"Wasn't really," he admitted. He couldn't explain to her that when your deepest wishes seem about to come true, you don't dare to think, as reason would probably inform you that they wouldn't.

"Then obviously you don't need me to tell you what a dumb idea it was," she huffed.

"No," he meekly agreed. "But there's more."

Mrs Hughes sighed.

"You see, Alfred walked in on us." He heard a soft gasp. "And told Mr Carson."

"And what did Mr Carson say?"

Judging by her tone, it sounded as if she had a perfectly good idea of what he might have said.

Thomas took a deep breath.

"He'd told me it would be best if I quietly resigned. Said he'd give me a good reference, and since Mr Bates has returned Mr Carson thought that I might use that as the excuse."

"Well, that is unfortunate," Mrs Hughes began sympathetically, "but given the circumstances, I must say that it is a rather generous –"

"That's still not all," Thomas mumbled. Mrs Hughes waited, a wary expression on her face. "Jimmy… Jimmy's told Mr Carson that unless he gives me a bad reference, he would go to the police. Have me arrested and bring scandal upon the house. So now, after ten years, I'm to leave without a reference, which means I'll never work again, and –"

His voice was growing more and more unsteady, and finally it broke, and he couldn't say anything else. Blinking rapidly, he stared at his untouched tea as silence filled the sitting room.

Mrs Hughes took his trembling hand across the desk and covered it with her warm, steady ones. He flinched in surprise, but neither of them pulled away.

Was she truly not disgusted?

"I won't deny that things look bleak," she began gently. Even through his tears, he gave a short, humourless laugh. "But you mustn't despair. I don't believe that Mr Carson would allow himself to be blackmailed like that. I will talk to him. He would –"

"Mr Carson won't help me, Mrs Hughes," he choked out. "He can't, and even if he could he wouldn't want to. He despises me, he's made that perfectly clear –"

"Mr Carson doesn't despise you!" she exclaimed. "Mr Carson is angry, as he has every right to be. And had it been a woman instead of James, he would have reacted much the same!"

He looked up, and met Mrs Hughes's eyes, and found less conviction there than in her tone.

"You and I both know that's not true," Thomas murmured.

Mrs Hughes blinked.

But she didn't give up. "Surely you don't imagine he'd be pleased, had you been found inside a woman's room in the middle of the night?"

He closed his eyes and exhaled. "Of course not. He'd have been furious, but he wouldn't… He wouldn't have said…"

You ought to be horsewhipped!

Revolting.

 _Foul!_

"You don't understand," he whispered. He bit his lower lip to keep it from quivering. Mrs Hughes squeezed his hand.

"Maybe I don't," she consented. "But I will talk to him all the same. Mr Carson may be many things, but unkind is not one of them." Thomas just nodded, eyes closed, trying to regain control of his breathing. He had no strength to argue even if he wanted to. It didn't matter anymore. Nothing mattered. There was no hope whatsoever on the horizon, and Mrs Hughes was very naïve to think there was.

But he appreciated her for it, more than he could ever express in words.

"Now, now," Mrs Hughes was saying. She patted his hand, smiling gently. "Dry your tears and drink your tea. This isn't over yet."

"Seems over to me," he mumbled.

"Well I say it's not. And you may be surprised." She said this with such determination that he found himself giving a small nod. If only for her sake.

* * *

In the end, Thomas had drunk only half the cup, thanked her for the tea and excused himself. Saddened, Elsie watched him leave, wishing she could have been more of a comfort. On the other hand, he was dry, warm and slightly more composed than he had been when she found him, so that was something.

She sipped the remnants of her tea, thinking. She had to come up with some sort of plan, and it would not be easy.

But first, she would talk to Mr Carson.

* * *

A/N: Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed it so far! Reviews are much appreciated!


	2. Unkind

"This porridge is sublime, Ivy."

"Don't be so soft."

"Wasn't till I met you."

Ivy smiled from ear to ear.

"Must we listen to this crudeness every single morning?"

Ivy fled the servants' hall, blushing.

"Sorry, Mr Carson," Jimmy said, not sounding sorry at all. "Can't help it. Ivy just brings it out in me."

"And at breakfast you will kindly keep _it_ to yourself!" Mr Carson boomed.

Thomas picked at his porridge. There was barely any flavour to it at all.

It'd happened nearly every meal since that night.

They would sit down at the table, Ivy would serve the food, and Jimmy would beam at her like she was his own personal sunrise. He would say something stupid and insincere about her food or appearance, Mr Carson would fume, Ivy would leave with a grin and by that time Thomas would have lost his appetite altogether.

The first few times, the others found it a bit strange, but now, the only people who seemed to care anymore were Mr Carson and Alfred.

And Thomas.

He knew it was all for show. Jimmy had never cared about Ivy before.

That only made it worse.

His porridge forgotten, Thomas risked a gaze at Jimmy, noting how his eyes sparkled and his cheeks twitched upwards in a suppressed smirk. He longed to replace the image of the raving man who threw him out of his room with something beautiful and pure. But it wasn't working.

He sighed and picked up the spoon again.

At that moment, he realized that he wasn't the only one staring.

Out of the corners of his eyes, he noticed Mrs Hughes observing Jimmy as well. Thomas glanced at her subtly. Her eyes were narrowed and she was frowning, but there was more than mere disapproval on her face. She seemed to be deep in thought.

After a few seconds, she noticed that Thomas was looking at her and gave him a small, sympathetic smile.

Thomas looked back at his bowl of porridge.

It was no use.

He put the spoon down, got up and left the servants' hall, aware of Jimmy's smug eyes following him out.

* * *

"I do not know what else to say, Mrs Hughes. If we stand up to James, he will go to the police. Thomas will go to prison, and I won't even dare to imagine the field day that the papers would have. If we do nothing, he is out of a job, most unjustly I agree, but at least he is free. I see no other option but to leave things as they are," he grumbled. He gazed deeply into Mrs Hughes's eyes, willing her to accept the reality of the situation.

It didn't seem to be happening.

Mr Carson sighed, wishing she would just leave it alone. It rankled him more than he would admit that he was being blackmailed by the likes of James – the entire affair clashed with his sense of morality, and he'd spent a lot of time trying to think of a way around it. In the end, he had to conclude that there was nothing he could do, so talking about it was a waste of time. Moreover, it was making him feel oddly ashamed. Mrs Hughes had been expecting him to come up with some sort of solution, and he had failed.

"I know that, Mr Carson," Mrs Hughes softly replied. "I'm not blaming you. I just wish we knew what to do."

There was a peculiar pause.

He got the sense that there was something more on her mind, and looked at her, eyebrows raised.

"You know, Thomas was terribly upset when we talked."

Ah.

"I expect no less," Mr Carson said matter-of-factly. "I should think that even _he_ would be sensible enough to regret his actions, especially taking into account the trouble they have caused."

"And he does regret them. But he is also in a great deal of emotional pain. Apparently you've said some things to him," she said pointedly.

Mr Carson bristled. "If Thomas is in pain, he has no one but himself to blame. _He_ has hurt himself, and he has hurt _me_."

Mrs Hughes scoffed and rolled her eyes.

"How in heaven's name has he hurt you –"

"By not thinking about the consequences of his actions," Mr Carson promptly listed, "by behaving in a most vulgar and uncivilized manner, by assaulting a younger member of my staff, and by not considering the scandal he could bring upon the entire house."

Mrs Hughes pursed her lips. "I agree that he was most foolish," she consented, "but I hardly think he deserves the kind of cruelty and lack of compassion that James has shown."

Mr Carson tilted his head left and right in agreement. Mrs Hughes gave him a sideways look.

"But _you_ weren't cruel to him, surely, Mr Carson?"

Mr Carson squirmed under her gaze.

"I confess I might have said some things that could be interpreted as less than kind…" he trailed off. "If it's any consolation, I did not say anything I did not mean."

"That's no consolation at all," she said sharply.

Mr Carson drew himself back up.

"Be that as it may," he began grumpily, "I am sure it fell on deaf ears. Thomas has never cared about my opinion in the past, and there is no reason why this time would be any different."

"You're wrong," Mrs Hughes retorted, "on both accounts, but now is not the time for that conversation. Whatever did you say to him?"

Rather uncomfortable, Mr Carson thought back to the words he's been avoiding to remember. He paused and tried to gather whatever indignation he had felt when confronting Thomas, but found very little of it at the present moment.

"I may have implied… that he needed to be horsewhipped," he said delicately.

There was no immediate reaction.

Mrs Hughes seemed stunned into silence. Mr Carson avoided her eyes, wary of the fire he would find in them. He wondered if there was anything he could say to justify the brutality of his words, and realized that couldn't recall what exactly had made him use them. No doubt Thomas had said something to tick him off. As he was prone to do.

"Over the years," Mrs Hughes began quietly after a while, looking at her lap, and he was surprised to find her tone almost neutral, "I have known you to be many things, Mr Carson." She gazed at him. "Proud. Loyal. Unyielding. Strict, but fair. Righteous and strong."

Slightly baffled but more than pleased, Mr Carson puffed up his chest.

"I've never thought I'd have to add unkind to that list."

Mr Carson's chest deflated.

He held her gaze for a few more seconds, then looked down.

Mrs Hughes was disappointed in him.

He did not like that.

* * *

Elsie sighed, allowing the full weight of her comment to sink in, whatever good it may do. Then she continued. "In any case, we need to focus on the problem at hand. We need to find a way to change James's mind and lay this whole kerfuffle to rest. But how do we do that?"

"I do not know, Mrs Hughes," he murmured, and Elsie could hear it in his voice that her earlier words have made an impact. A part of her regretted them, but it had to be said. "As I've told you, James's mind was quite made up. Unfortunately I do not think there is anything we can do."

"But there _must_ be. We just have to think." What did they know about James? Who was he?

What did he care about?

What was he afraid of?

And then it hit her.

"I know what we should do!" she exclaimed.

It took a very short amount of time to share her idea with Mr Carson. As he listened, his eyes grew wider.

"Mrs Hughes," he began when she had finished, "I must say you are quite the Machiavelli." He was visibly impressed, and she smiled. "This is a side of you I don't often get to see."

"I daresay there are many sides of me you don't often get to see, Mr Carson."

Oh, that man and his eyebrows.

"I do need your help, though," Elsie continued, before he could gather his wits and respond. "If this is to work, no one else can be there. If you would just keep Alfred busy..."

* * *

A/N: Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed it. I would absolutely love to hear your opinions. Also - I'm not a native English speaker, and I'm a native 1920s speaker even less, so if there's a mistake that's just poking you in the eyes, please feel free to kindly point it out!


	3. On His Side

"I have summoned you, Mr Barrow, in relation to our first conversation after that... unfortunate incident. You see... It was brought to my attention that some of the things I said were not, perhaps, fully suited. Even though I had meant everything at the time, I have come to regret certain... implications."

Mr Carson exhaled through his nose. Every sentence stuck to his teeth, as if, instead of speaking, he was trying to spit out rocks. He did not think himself above apologizing if there was need for it, but apologizing to Thomas of all people, after everything he had done throughout the years, was a deeply unnatural and repulsive undertaking. He sat back in his chair, entwined his hands on his stomach, and trudged on.

"I'm not sure if you remember, but I referred to a certain sort of violent punishment unfitting to a man. One might say I was provoked by your cheek," a glare at the man standing across him, "but that is no excuse to be brutal. For that I... would like to apologize. I'll have you know that I do not in fact wish you physical harm."

Mr Carson gazed at Thomas in expectancy of verbal and visual appreciation.

But Thomas just blinked, opened his mouth, and closed it. It was almost as if he did not even understand what was happening.

"I... Yes, Mr Carson," he finally said. "Uh... Thank you."

Mr Carson stared at him from beneath his bushy eyebrows. Suddenly, it occurred to him that Thomas looked unusually pale, as if he had become transparent, or started dissolving... as if he were a ghost of his former dark self. But Mr Carson couldn't pinpoint the reason for that strange thought, so he quickly shook it off.

"My opinion of your situation remains unchanged, of course," he added.

"Of course," Thomas said quietly, looking down.

Mr Carson waited, but Thomas said nothing else. So he dismissed him.

After the door closed, Mr Carson looked about, faintly annoyed. He was not pleased with what had occurred – he had received no appropriate gratitude and humbleness in reply; in fact, Thomas had not sounded grateful at all, nor seemed to realize what a precious unlikely occasion he had been a part of.

Well, he had only done it for Mrs Hughes's sake anyway. Mrs Hughes would appreciate his efforts. The thought made the tiniest smile dance upon his lips.

On that cheering note, Mr Carson took some of the papers from his desk and started sorting them out.

Soon enough, however, he realized he felt completely unabsolved of his guilt.

He blamed this entirely on Thomas.

* * *

Jimmy glanced up, throwing a look about the servants' hall, but still only Alfred and Mrs Hughes were there. He reverted his attention back to the newspaper, giving a small exasperated sigh. He was reclining on a chair, trying and failing to enjoy the last few minutes of freedom after lunch. This was usually the time Mr Carson would walk in with some stupid task for him and Alfred, and it irked Jimmy to no end that he could not relax while he was waiting.

"Ah, Alfred," Mr Carson said soon enough, appearing at the door. Jimmy and Alfred both stood up with a start. "I need you to come with me. I want to show you how to properly clean the silver – last time I noticed there were smudges from your fingers on several items... which we simply cannot have."

Jimmy frowned. "Don't you need me too, Mr Carson?"

Mr Carson twitched at the sound of his voice. He glowered at Jimmy.

"Not this time, James. Your work was... satisfactory." It seemed to give Mr Carson great pains to say that word. "You may take the hour off."

Alfred shot him a dirty look as he left with Mr Carson.

Jimmy grinned, sat back down and flattened out his newspaper. Well! The day just kept getting better and better. Other people were working, and he had the whole glorious hour to spend as he wished. He met Mrs Hughes's eyes, and she beamed at him.

"Well done, James. You should be pleased with yourself."

"And so I am." The fact that Mr Carson's praise was so grudging made it all the sweeter.

Mrs Hughes held his eyes for a moment too long, then looked away and sighed, her smile fading.

"Is everything alright, Mrs Hughes?" Jimmy asked uncertainly.

"Oh, don't mind me," she said. "I confess that I am slightly disappointed in you. But not to worry," she added, smiling again, " _my_ disappointment will be easy to get over."

"Disappointment?" Jimmy ran a hand through his hair, frowning. "But what have I done?"

"It's just that... I don't know if I should be telling you this or not, but... I had thought your interest in Ivy to have been, well, If not entirely proper, then at least genuine. I guess I was wrong." Mrs Hughes sighed again. "She will be crushed. It really is terribly unkind of you, James, to play with the poor girl's feelings like that."

Jimmy stared. How did she know that he was only making a show of flirting with Ivy so as to assert his attraction to women?

But no. Steady on. It was best to pretend he had no idea what she was talking about.

"I'm afraid I don't understand, Mrs Hughes."

"I just had no idea!" she waxed on, as if Jimmy had not said a word. "You'd never seemed the type, though it makes sense that you would wish to hide it, of course. But now when I think about it, there is rather something about you –"

"I beg your pardon, Mrs Hughes," Jimmy interrupted, and he did not have to fake his confusion this time, "but what are you talking about?"

She gave him a reassuring smile.

"You don't have to pretend. I'm not your enemy."

The conversation was becoming more baffling by the second.

"Enemy?"

Mrs Hughes gave him a look.

"Your secret is safe with me."

" _What_ secret?"

She rolled her eyes.

"Oh alright, if you really insist, I am referring to your... preferences."

Jimmy stared at her, feeling dumber by the second.

"What preferences?"

Mrs Hughes gave a short laugh.

"Honestly, James, give me some credit. I am not blind. But as I said, no need to fret. If I hadn't betrayed Mr Barrow's trust all these years, there's no reason I wouldn't do the same for you."

It took several moments for the wheels in Jimmy's head to settle at just the right, horror-filled spot.

" _You think I'm a_ –"

"Language, James."

"– you think I'm like Mr Barrow?!"

"Well it's only obvious, isn't it?"

Jimmy jumped from his chair, arms flailing. The newspaper fell apart all over the floor.

"Obvious?! How can it be obvious? I've done all I could to make it obvious that I _weren't_ a – that I weren't like that!"

Mrs Hughes gave him a sad look. She shook her head.

"You are young, and with time you will learn a thing or two about human nature. You see, James... No one tries that hard if they have nothing to hide."

With that same soft, slightly disappointed smile, she made towards the door.

Jimmy stood there, his eyes still on Mrs Hughes's retreating form, but not truly seeing it. Everything he had known about the world was turning upside down. All this time he had been trying to accomplish one thing, and apparently succeeded in doing exactly the opposite. For a moment he was too shocked to speak.

Then reality struck, and his voice returned.

"Mrs Hughes! Wait! Please!"

He rushed after her. She stopped.

"I am not like Mr Barrow!" She just turned away, that same sympathetic, slightly disappointed expression on her face. "Mrs Hughes, please – I'm not like that –"

"Whatever you say, James."

"I say it because it's the truth!" he cried.

"There is no reason to lie to me," she said with a smile. The hairs upon Jimmy's neck stood up. "As I said, I'm not your enemy."

He took a deep breath.

"How can I prove it to you?"

"I'm afraid that ship has sailed."

"That's not possible. You must believe me!"

"There is nothing you could say that would convince me," she said with gentleness that made Jimmy feel as if he was going insane.

"But I swear on me life I'm not! You can ask Lady Anstruther –"

On the second thought –

An alarm went off in Jimmy's head. Mrs Hughes stared at him, eyes wide.

"Only-only to say – I mean," Jimmy fished in his mind for a safe and plausible explanation, sweating, "she caught me kissing a maid once," he lied, "but – best not ask her after all –"

"I should think not," Mrs Hughes intoned.

Relief washed over Jimmy like a mini tidal wave. Then he plunged back into panic.

"Please, Mrs Hughes, I told you I swear –"

Mrs Hughes brought her hand up. Jimmy waited, hoping.

"That is all very well, James. But in any case, I'm not the one you should be convincing – Mr Carson is."

Jimmy's insides froze.

"Mr Carson thinks I'm like Mr Barrow?!"

"Well you did practically prove him right with that ridiculous scheme of yours." Mrs Hughes shook her head. "He _will_ be rather smug. He suspected so after he first set eyes on you. He was quite reluctant to take you on, but apparently Lady Mary said –"

"Mrs Hughes," James implored, his voice squeaky with barely contained hysteria, "why do you say I should be convincing Mr Carson?"

Mrs Hughes seemed uncomfortable. "Well, it's just that our Mr Carson is a traditionalist. He had put up with Mr Barrow all these years, you see, because Mr Barrow is a good worker, but I'm afraid he might see this as an opportunity to cleanse the house of all who might bring scandal upon it. Which, sadly, makes you, James, the next one in line. You have never been as good at your job as Mr Barrow is, and –"

"But that's completely unfair! He can't kick me out, I've done nothing wrong! I'll report Mr Barrow to the police then, see if Mr Carson likes that –"

"Ah, but then the scandal would be out, and nothing would be stopping Mr Carson to report _you_ to the police."

A brief image of himself and Thomas as cellmates flashed in Jimmy's mind.

"I'll just, I'll just, I'll just have to tell him that he's wrong," Jimmy said, forcing calmness into his voice. He ran his hands through his hair again. This time, they were shaking. "I'll just tell him that I'm not like that, and that'll be the end of it."

"I'm not so sure he'd believe you –"

"But he _has_ to it's the truth!" Jimmy shrieked, and it was all he could do to keep from screaming. "You believe me, don't you?"

Mrs Hughes tilted her head. "I am in two minds –"

" _MRS HUGHES –_ "

"Alright, alright, if you insist. I believe you. Calm down," she said, patting his arm. It didn't sound as if she was completely convinced. "But I don't think there's a way for you to persuade Mr Carson. He'd just think it were a lie, and get even more cross with you for trying to trick him."

Jimmy looked left and right, grasping for a solution.

"What if I told him I changed my mind?" he said, and the more he focused on the idea, the more sense it made. "About reporting Mr Barrow? That I've just genuinely changed my mind? You can confirm it, Mrs Hughes, he'd listen to you!"

"I hardly think I'm going to lie to Mr Carson for you –"

"Not lie! No, just – just tell him I've decided so, which I _have_ – please, Mrs Hughes!" he begged. "My whole life is at stake! I could end up in prison – an innocent man – would you want that?"

"You are the one who threatened to send an innocent man to prison in the first place," she said sternly.

"He's not innocent," Jimmy scoffed, then hesitated when he saw the expression in Mrs Hughes eyes. He bit his lip. "Mrs Hughes, please. I never wanted to in the first place – only Miss O'Brien said –"

"Miss O'Brien?"

The atmosphere changed imperceptibly. Jimmy grabbed at the chance.

"Yes, it was her all along! I never wanted to take it this far. Only she told me if I didn't insist Mr Barrow was punished, people would think I were like him! I only did it because it seemed she had my best interest at heart. And she was rather persuasive."

"I can imagine that," Mrs Hughes said.

Jimmy held his breath. Mrs Hughes stared at the floor, her eyes narrowed.

"Very well, James. I believe you," she said.

Jimmy started breathing again. He closed his eyes. He wanted to find a chair, collapse onto it and put his head between his knees.

"Go ahead and talk to Mr Carson, then. Tell him you have changed your mind about reporting Mr Barrow. I do not know if he will believe your story... but if you really want me to, I will stand by you, for what it's worth."

Jimmy nodded vigorously. He knew he could convince Mr Carson if Mrs Hughes was on his side.

And he simply had to. There was no other option.

* * *

Later, in the privacy of her sitting room, Elsie allowed herself a quiet giggle.

She had to admit, she almost felt sorry for James.

Not quite, but almost.

* * *

A/N: I LOVE THESE CHARACTERS WHY DID I WAIT SO LONG.

Thank you for reading this! I hope it's believable - what do you think? Please share your thoughts and impressions if you feel like it!


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